(She knew that wouldn't work, she was just pulling a goof, but it's possible this situation is a little too dire for such things? Lucretia didn't even notice he had the barrel of the gun pointed upward until he lowers it, which sparks a jolt of dread in her stomach. It's too reminiscent of the umbrastaff, the horrible trembling in his voice, the furious, confused tears in his eyes.

Lucretia exhales shakily, and grips her hands into fists.)

It seems I have underestimated you, (she says sarcastically, and sighs.) I– look, it's... an extremely long story, and I'm really– uh, could we at least get off of this beach before something else terrible happens? I mean, in light of being literally shot at five minutes ago, how does 'why are you old' take priority in this situation?